He was probably right. Rhainn’s knuckles had punished many a face for lesser transgressions; she wasn’t really the wind and dine or the cheap motel type. It had taken broken bones, weeks of knowing each other, fighting back to back, countless kisses stolen and then forcibly punished for… her only previous lover had been run through the gauntlet before securing her trust and affections. And it was less of a gauntlet, and more of a naked run in subarctic weather along a path of razor blades with randomly targeted detonations while pursued by angry nests of killer bees.
It was amazing Makis was still alive, even before his betrayal.
She had thoroughly beaten the shit out of him no less than three times in the long arduous trial of their quirky courtship. The man had clearly been mad to pursue her. Most men had more sense than that. Rhainn had a reputation, one which she upheld with great pride. It didn’t even occur to her that such thoughts might still be running through John’s head. He’d seen her knee Crawford, he knew she was one for fighting- most would have lost interest in pursuing anything more than a conversation, if even that much. She hadn’t realized she would have to work to re-establish the status quo; no touch-y the angry ice queen.
Still, these were thoughts that were far from her head as she examined the facts laid out before her. John very obviously knew more than he was telling. She wanted to know how that man had so easily gotten the best of her. There was something special about the water he’d used, something that hurt her assailant, but had no effect on her. Or perhaps it was something special about her assailant as well.
She wouldn’t have been horribly shocked to know the truth. After all, out of no where she’d found herself here, and the dragon’s voice in her mind was nothing but a memory. She was filled with new knowledge, and had a chance at a new life- a chance she’d never asked for, never wanted, and didn’t care about.
Rhainn wanted to be back home. She wanted to exact punishment on the ones who deserved it, not random thugs in a bar. Too tired to be alarmed, and too broken to feel afraid, she didn’t know about the problems in this world, and she didn’t care. She just wanted to fight until she couldn’t fight any longer, and to die on her feet, fists flying. If things went really, really well, she would kill the dragon first, and make Makis pay for giving in. For being weak. For letting them take him, for not fighting back, for bartering with the one enemy she would gladly give anything to destroy.
Her expression grew sour, and she looked again to the door that the man with shadows had fled through.
“So then where does one go to get water that makes big ugly men with bad teeth run screaming out the door?”
Her real question, however, lay unspoken. Where did one go to find big ugly men who she could subsequently weaken and spend hours fighting until one of them died… preferably the big ugly in question?
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